One Last Time
by Cellotastic
Summary: A story of the daughter of a Wizard doing something she'd never imagine being a Mage would entail: farming. Rated T for some language and mature themes.
1. The End

_Being a daughter or son of a wizard is never easy. Not that anyone said it would be, but you know, we figured that these days people would learn to be tolerant. Especially in the rural areas where wild magic is still alive and strong. But the people forgot. They forgot that it was my father and his kin who mixed their medicines, who the doctors and nurses learned from. It was my father who helped to save a whole community…in his way._

_I am twenty-two on this day, 15__th__ of Spring, and I am the daughter of a wizard. My mother was not one of us. The days I spent with her were –_

The pen skittered across the floor after it had fallen from my hand. I was shaking. That always happened when I thought of mom though, this wasn't anything new. She'd always taught me that it was important to stay strong in the face of adversity and to always put my very best self forward. It was still hard to think of her. She'd died from a sickness she contracted while travelling. The local doctor had never encountered it before, and it came from a place of old magic, older than any of my clan's magic. My father never had a chance.

I don't think any of us were ever the same after that. Dad left home, and advised we do the same. I don't think he could stay there, after he'd failed to save Mom. It was probably the guilt that drove him away. Mattes, my older brother, and I used to visit him at his new home when we were younger. It was on some island, far away. We honestly had never thought much of it. You know, it was just…not a busy place. Not someplace either of us could imagine living. We had our apprenticeships to worry about. Mattes was studying to become a healer. After Mom, I think he really just never wanted to see someone go the same way. I can't blame him.

I was working to become a reader. You know, of signs, cards, stars, all of that jazz. Normally fortune-tellers were witches or wizards trying to con commonfolk into paying for our services without knowing. These days, we do so much more. Match making by reading auras and palms, horoscopes with cards, the list goes on for miles, really.

"Meryl, you up there?"

I started, and shook my head. How long had I been day-dreaming this time? Looking at the desk in front of me, I saw that I'd managed to knock over the inkwell, lose my quill and waste a stack of papers in the process. Not to mention to mess overall. Hoping to clean it up before I was caught, I started shoving things into my bag, not mindful of the wet, sticky ink. At least, not until my hands looked as if I'd pulled the night sky away with my palms.

"By the Gods Meryl, what've you done now?" My head whipped around to see Mattes standing at the top of the stairs. I quailed for a moment, afraid he'd yell at me. My brother had quite the temper once whipped into a rage. But no, he started laughing at me! As if I weren't already embarrassed enough, he had to go and laugh at me too.

I went back to what I was doing, abandoning all hope on my now ruined bag. The whole thing looked a downright mess anyway; it didn't matter at that point. Mattes laid a hand on my shoulder and shook his head.

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Very suddenly the whole mess was gone, excluding the giant ink stains on my clothes, bag and skin. I looked at Mattes for the first time, and made sure to as best a sarcastically thankful expression as I could. He only laughed, and said something about how I looked a tad constipated. He'd just learned how to fix it, and would I like his help?

I smacked him, hard, as I started down the stairs from my personal hidey hole in the Wizard's Keep. After we'd left home, this is where we came. Well, this is where Dad told us to go. So we did, seeing as we didn't exactly have a ton of options. Eventually we'd have had to come here, to start our training. You know, get our basic knowledge and such. I couldn't tell you where the Keep was if I wanted to. The damnable thing flies, it's submersible, it can even teleport. That's why we don't really leave. If we did, it might just strand us someplace.

Mattes caught up to me, not that there was a chance he wouldn't. He was always the bigger one, the faster one, the stronger one. He's the eldest though, and a man. I had assumed that was the norm for these sorts of things. I gave him a good sidelong glance, and yet again realized how similar we must have looked our whole lives.

Same piercing eyes that skirted a line between green and gold most days and hair so lightly blonde it was almost white. As children, it was actually a fine grey, much to our mother's dismay. It's just part of being a wizard and witch though. We have the same straight nose and bottom lip, though Mattes will argue that his lips are clearly more kissable than mine. It's never much of an argument, since I refuse to respond to that sort of thing.

Even though we look enough alike to be twins, barring the height difference, we're about as different as two people could be. Where Mattes is all loud noises and big movements, I was always more controlled. I was the one expected to keep him in line, not the other way around. I've never been one for talking excessively; it's not that I'm shy, I just don't feel like speaking half the time. The other half I have nothing important to contribute to the pre-existing conversation.

That whole time Mattes had been rambling about some trip, and suddenly he mentioned something about the Council ordering it. I threw out an arm to stop him so I could ask a question, but the idiot just walked into my arm instead. Nearly knocked the wind out of himself and broke my forearm in the process, I might add. After I'd knocked him upside the head for his stupidity and he'd gotten angry, gotten mopey and then gotten over it, I got his attention.

"What did you say? About the Council, what was that?" A strand of hair waved in front of my eyes and I blew at it, as my hands were full with my ruined satchel. Mattes gave me a Grade A glare before honoring me with a response.

"We have to take our Tour a few decades early. Something about an experiment with the new age culture, or something. I honestly wasn't paying that much attention. Anyway, we leave tomorrow morning at dawn. It's about dusk now, so I'd pack anything you'll want or need for the next ten years right now." Mattes continued on his merry way down the stairs while I, like any sane individual, stopped to contemplate that thought for a moment.

And then I threw a book at my brother's head.

"Hey! What'd you do tha-"

"Just who gave you the right to not tell me this?" I asked, quietly, because raising my voice will do me no good. At that point, I was already livid, and Mattes knew what would happen when I got into a rage of my own. While his were frequent, mine were very, very rare. The last time he kicked me into a frenzy I broke his leg. Accidentally, of course, but the memory lingered and served me well time and time again. That would be another one of those times.

Mattes stopped and stammered, not sure of what to say. Of course he didn't know what to say, there'd be nothing to say. You don't argue with a decision made by the Council. It was the Elder's Council, the single oldest and most respected wizard group there had even been. They were and are basically our governing body.

But still! How could he not tell me sooner? I knew he'd known for at least a week, because he started off his story by saying it was part of a joke his friend Gareth had made a week prior to that day, and Mattes doesn't get dates wrong, for all he botched astronomy. It just made me angry, to know that he'd had complete knowledge of this happening and he'd neglected to tell me…

"Meryl? Mer, c'mon, look at me…"

I looked up and instantly wished that I hadn't. Mattes was giving me the big eyes, the ones that make you melt and instantly make you feel like the scummiest person on the planet. I threw up a hand and looked away, but the damage was already done. I knew he hadn't meant anything by it, and he was sorry. Of course he was sorry, he didn't want to go either. But that's what we'd have to do, isn't it? It is. So that's it. We're going.

Sighing, I punched him in the arm and threw my hunk of wasted material into a robe bin. I wouldn't need it where we were going anyway.

I guess you could say Mattes and I were lucky. We had someplace to go, and beds to sleep in. Not every young witch or wizard gets that. You could say we were lucky because there was already a witch and a wizard in the community we were moving into. You could even say we were lucky because it was a beautiful environment far away from the witch hunting masses.

We however, would have disagreed.

That wizard on the island?

That's our Dad.

Who we haven't seen since our mother died.

Eight years ago in a week.

Hopefully you can see why we didn't feel so lucky.

We had to smuggle all of our equipment onto the island in the dead of night, which really started things off on a high note for me. Silencing charms from head to toe and I'm hauling chests and crates of supplies, books and instruments across the damnable landscape with my clumsy brother and my father who ran out on us. There were many, many times when I thought I would kill them both right then and there.

And after all of that, we had to sneak to the mainland and buy tickets to take a ferry _back_ to the same island. Because normal people don't just turn up out of nowhere on a secluded island. Yes, you heard me. _Normal people._ That's the little experiment the Council wanted to try. To see if two young mages-in-training could keep it a secret in a small community. The next batches were going to cities if we went well. Huzzah.

So _that_ is how I ended up standing next to my brother on the deck of some decrepit old fishing boat, trying not to get salt water in my eyes. Since it was the tail end of spring, I'd chosen to wear a long sleeve red flannel and roll the sleeves up. That, and some jean shorts and leather riding boots. Or something like that. The Council had supplied us with some normal people clothes so we wouldn't stand out so much. After all, it was our job to assimilate with the existing community and still continue our training.

I was already missing the Keep as we watching the island grow larger and larger on the horizon. Mattes rubbed my shoulder in comfort and went down to talk to the captain about getting our things off of the boat. As we steadily approached our new home, I couldn't help but worry about all the things that could go wrong. What if we didn't develop familiars? Every successful witch or wizard that ever was had a familiar. And supplies? What would we do if one of our scrying mirrors broke, or we ran out of a certain herb? How were we expected to fend four ourselves out here in this isolated prison?

Roughly, I scrubbed my face with my hands to try and dislodge those thoughts from my mind. It would do no one any good for me to dwell on those things when there was a chance they might not even happen. For the time at hand, I would have to be strong. After all, a very wise woman told that it wasn't always easy to be steady in the face of adversity, but to stare it it down was to accept the challenge head on. That woman, for all her lack of eloquence with words, was my mother.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi, I'm Kat. I'll be your author for this story. Just to warn you well in advance, there _will_ be a fair amount of crossing over between different titles within the Harvest Moon franchise. At the moment, Animal Parade, Tree of Tranquility, and probably Magical Melody (though it might go a little AU for my purposes, so please, bear with me). To clear up any questions, I worked in a reverse order; Meryl is the daughter of Gale and the heroine from Animal Parade, and we've moved back to Waffle Island, post-game events. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter, the next two have already been written!

Don't forget to tip your authoress and leave a review!


	2. Settling In

The voyage to Waffle Island – yes, you heard me correctly, they named their island after a _breakfast_ food – was largely uneventful. After we'd loaded everything onto the boat and cast off, I watched the city melt down to meet the waves. It was a city I knew nothing of, but in theory was very similar to the one my brother and I supposedly came from. Our cover story was that we were to college graduates leaving home to find a place of our own. Separately, of course. We were still siblings in our pretty little lie. The resemblance is too difficult to deny, even after Mattes dyed his hair. The Council had figured a soft blonde would help the locals to take kindly to me, even though I wasn't too terribly social. Mattes, on the other hand, would be too strange and out of place. So he had to dye his hair to a deep black. Thankfully it was a spell, so all of his hair, including body and facial hair, would grow the same shade of raven. Of course, I didn't really see how black hair would make him seem more trustworthy, but that was his hurdle, not mine.

I was already burnt from all the time spent in the sun. Living inside did not give me much of a tolerance to the sun. Mattes had Mom's skin though, and was well on his way to a lovely olive complexion. I resented him a little that he could take to this new environment so readily. He had even chatting up the captain the whole way, while I stayed off on my own. Already, I could tell that it would not be an easy transition for me. Neither of us were sure of what we would be doing in this new place to assimilate, but we figured it would not be easy goings.

When we finally docked at the island's port, I permitted myself a look around. Largely unremarkable, I couldn't help but see the whole situation as a little bleak. It was…quaint. Very much the same as I remember from my childhood, but maybe a bit more lively, perhaps. Houses that had been abandoned in the past were full of life and laughter, and there were more stores than there had used to be.

Mattes and I were directed to the local Inn, where we could stay free of charge for a few days until the Mayor, a man named Hamilton, could figure out what to do with us. We took different rooms, which was a first. We had always been quartered together, and been nearby to help each other. It was strange to be separated.

It had been a very long day, and quite honestly I was tired and scared. None of these people knew what I was, and if they did, what would they do? Try to burn me in a huge bonfire? Stone me? Tie me to a boulder and dump me in the ocean? The list went on much longer. I had a secret, and perhaps it would just be better to keep to myself.

I lay on the bed in my small rented room, and stared at the ceiling. The sun should be setting right about now. The dust motes over my head were dancing lazily in the honeyed twilight. Reaching out a hand, I tried to grab one, but it just flitted away. I rubbed my face and a sigh slipped out of my mouth. This was not where I should be, playing at being human in this quite little town.

There was a knock at the door and I groaned as I stood and crossed the room to it. With my hand on the handle, the door opened slowly and I looked at my brother. He was standing in the hallway with his most well-meaning smile, which only ever meant trouble for me.

"What is it now, Mattes?" I asked, not particularly wanting to know the answer. It would probably mean something very unpleasant for me, most likely involving people.

"Put on something nice, we're having dinner in five minutes," he said, gesturing to the rumpled shirt and shorts from the trip over. I'd slept in them and they were mostly ruined at this point. I tried to argue with him, but it's Mattes. Not much really helps.

So I changed into a respectable dress in a mossy green with an undershirt of deep creamy brown. I was never one for bright colors, unlike my cockatiel of a brother who had picked a fiery red shirt and gray slacks. That was his way though. He took all the attention, since I'd already taken all of the common sense. I laced up the leather boots I'd bought, cringing at their stiffness. They would be difficult to break in. It would be wise to invest in stockings, I realized, and added that to the growing list of things I would need to acquire.

Mattes had gone downstairs without me, and I could already hear his over-zealous laughter amidst the music that was playing. Nervous, I turned to look at my reflection in the mirror set into the vanity in my room. I looked nice, at the very least. For a moment, I tried to look at myself like an artist might, taking stock of the features. I had high cheekbones and a strong chin, full lips and a straight nose. I fingered the bridge, perpetually bothered by the straightness of it. Large, lash framed eyes well-hidden behind a curtain of pale blonde fringe. Worried brows. Worried eyes. Nervous hands, and unsure feet. My hair was too long to fit in well, I thought. No one would have waist length hair. If I ate better, and exercised, I admitted that I might not look so much a wraith in my clothes.

There came a shout suddenly that sounded very much like my brother after he'd taken offense, and I rushed out the door without another thought to my appearance. He would fight a man if he felt insulted. Upon arriving at the top of the staircase I saw he had only lost an arm-wrestling match. Which left me standing very breezy at the head of the room, alone.

I felt as if everyone were looking at me, but in reality only a few had looked, and only for a moment. True beauties halted a room. I could only pause it for a moment, at best. Tucking a stray strand of hair back, I started down the stairs, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. There were a lot of people in the Inn, many of whom were not staying there. I knew this because my brother and I were the only two listed guests at the moment.

No one noticed me as I slipped into a couch near the check-in desk. As usual, I kept to myself. Everyone was drinking and socializing, which was not really my strong suit. I tried not to drink much, because I didn't know how alcohol affected me, and let's be honest, a drunk witch is a liability at the best of times.

"Mattes! Where's your sister?" The tall red-headed man Mattes had lost to earlier was shouting at him from the bar. "You know, the one you were telling us all about. Where is she?" A murmur of agreement rumbled through the group, and I paled. My brother, the idiot, had been telling people about me. Figures, he was one for trying to always get his foot in the door. I couldn't believe him, I really couldn't. He was just so dumb sometimes.

Thankfully, I couldn't see my brother, so he wouldn't see me. That's when I saw his increasing more familiar mop of black hair pop out of the crowd as he stood on a chair. I ducked my head, but of course, that did no good. He spotted me within an instant.

"Tha's her!" He slurred, his voice already thick with alcohol. "Tha's Meryl, my lit'el sistar." He had assumed a bit of a warped accent, and I wanted to smack him so hard as he drunkenly pointed at me. How he'd gotten intoxicated so quickly was beyond me. He'd seemed sober when he'd came to get me, but maybe he'd only sobered up for a moment? Who knows…

A few of the locals offered to buy me a drink, and I did my best to refuse, but the redhead from earlier beat them all out by offering to buy me some mulled cider instead. I didn't do well with shots or whiskey, or gin and tonic. It was sweet things with a bit of bubble that I preferred, really. Champagne was one of my favorite things to drink. So when I was sitting at the bar beside him and the barkeep, a large balding man by the name of Hayden, handed me the fluted glass of a rich bubbly drink, I was more than excited to try it.

"So, Meryl is it?" The redhead addressed me, turning slightly in his seat to face me. I nodded, and took a sip of my drink, relishing the way it tripped over my tongue and down my throat. It had been a long time since I'd enjoyed my drink like this. He nodded, and continued. "I'm Owen. You're not from around here, are you?"

I shook my head and smiled. "No. I'm from…" I had to stop myself from saying Harmonica Town, since that was my birthplace. Forcing myself, I recalled the city I claimed I hailed from. "I'm from Flowerbud," I said with a small, forced smile. Flowerbud was more of a town, I'd heard, far away in the mountains, but I had never been and probably would never go.

Owen nodded and gave me a smile of his own. "Yeah, I've heard of Flowerbud. It's a nice place?"

"It's well enough," I said with a shrug. "It got a little too busy for my brother and I. After we both came home from school, we figured it was time to move on to someplace new." I gestured to the bar, the Inn, hell, to all of Waffle Island. "So here we are, I guess."

"Somehow, it's not surprising to me that you ended up here." I looked sharply at Owen, who was now gazing into his drink, his face serious. "Things used to be a lot different around here. Quieter, less people. Then all of a sudden, people started coming back. The seas calmed down. Animals got stronger, the birds came back. Hell, even the crops started to grow better. None of us could tell you what happened, but we've stopped being surprised when newcomers show up." Still staring down his yellow tinted drink, Owen stopped. I almost touched him, to break him of his little reverie, when he tipped the glass back and finished what was left of it in a single gulp. He motioned to Hayden for another, and turned back to me with a small smile. "Not trying to scare you off or anything. Just being honest, you know?"

I nodded, and took a swig of my cider without looking away from my companion. He seemed to be a little more mysterious than I'd originally thought, and I put that idea away for safe keeping. "So… Owen. What do you do? You know, around the island." Swirling the cider in my glass, I tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. After all, the island was only going to get stranger now that Mattes and I had arrived.

"I work in Ganache." To my blank face, he laughed and elaborated. "The mining and farm district. My great uncle Ramsey is the blacksmith, and I mine minerals and ores for him to use. He's teaching me how to work metal, so I'll probably take over the business one day." I nodded, because I assumed that's the appropriate response. He shrugged, and turned to me. "Any idea what you're going to do? Open a business or something?"

Immediately I shook my head. "No, I haven't got any kind of marketable skill. I don't know what I'm going to do, honestly. Hopefully I can find work here somewhere." I hugged my body with my free arm and took a large drink. Dwelling on the possibility of homelessness was not an option.

"Don't worry, Hamilton will probably put you guys on the ranch plan."

"The what plan?"

Laughing, Owen replied. "The ranch plan. A newcomer like you two showed up a few years back. He lives over in the Caramel River district. They gave him some land and space for animals, and that's how he earns his keep." I pondered that for a moment. Ranching was not a possibility I had considered, out of all of them. It could work, in theory. After all, Mattes and I were both good with plants, and animals. It came with being a mage. We knew how to tend plants, and animal-speech is a very common trait among mages. Mattes can't but I can. He's better with physical labor though, so it's a fair trade off, I guess.

"Well, that might not be so bad. It could be fun, even!" I tried at a laugh, but it sounded a bit more like a cough, so I let it be. Owen laughed as well, and then said something about how he had an early day in the morning and made his farewell. I waved a goodbye and went back to my nearly empty drink. Another glass filled with the same liquid was placed on the counter next to me and I looked up to meet Hayden's quiet smile.

"On the house."

I nodded a thank you, and handed him the now empty glass in my hand. Taking the new one, I spun in my seat to face the room. Most of the people that had been there had left, and a small meal for two was being laid out on a nearby table. Mattes waved me over after the blonde waitress with the remarkably wide hips had walked away. A fish dish was laid out on Mattes' side and a creamy rice dish with a red sauce was laid out on mine. After taking my seat, I wasted no time in digging into the dish. It was very good, I decided, and made no attempt to eat slowly.

Mattes was too drunk to carry on a conversation, and when we were done eating he was considerably more drunk than he already was. Jake, the innkeeper, and Hayden had to lug his drunken ass up the stairs for me, since I was too small to be of any help. They threw him in bed, and while thanking them I tucked him in as best I could. By that, I mean I just tossed a quilt over him and let him be to sleep off the booze.

The lights in the lobby began to dim as I returned to my room. Instead of turning on the lights, I simply undressed and climbed into bed. The sheets were cool ice to my bare legs, and I spent the first few minutes shivering until my stolen body heat had warmed them. Of course, I don't know when I fell asleep. No one really ever remembers the moment the fall asleep or wake up. They just become aware that they are awake and that both of these actions must have transpired.

So I became aware. Mostly because of the knocking coming from the door. Groaning loudly, I rolled out of bed and grabbed the coverlet off the bed and wrapped it around myself. Stumbling to the door, I shouted groggily, "Who the hell is it!" I'm not one for mornings, if you can tell.

"Meryl? Oh my, dear, well, I was coming to show you and your brother the houses we have, but if now isn't a good time…" It was Hamilton, the mayor. I groaned again, internally this time, and opened the door a crack.

"No, 's fine. Just woke up… I'll get Mattes. Lobby, meet okay?" My voice was thick with sleep, and Hamilton nodded and scurried off. I'm sure I looked a damn mess.

And I was right. My hair resembled a haystack, and my impromptu clothing made of bedding was a bit scandalous at best. Stumbling down the hall, I pounded on my brother's door, and shouted at him, "Wake up you lazy beast! The mayor's here!" The noise elicited some sort of roar from within, and I just kicked the door with the ball of my bare foot. "Stop your belly-achin' and get out of bed already!" Obscenities began to fill the space on the other side of the door, and I left him be. I had to get ready myself. All I did was find a deep blue and white day dress and some black leggings and braid my hair back. Once dressed and shoed properly, I went downstairs to meet the mayor. Jake handed me a sandwich as I passed him, which I thanked him for. I was always hungry when I woke up in the morning.

The mayor was sitting at the table we'd eaten at the night before and hopped up upon seeing me. "Meryl, so nice to finally meet you. I'm Hamilton, the mayor of this town." For the next few minutes, even as my brother came down the stairs, he droned on about the ranch plan and what he hoped we would accomplish with it. Apparently a man by the name of Jack had already taken what Hamilton called the "Hilltop Plot" so we would have to split the two remaining. Mattes took the "Seaside Plot" and I was allocated to the "Town Plot". Neither of us knew what that meant, but we were willing to just go along with it for now.

We got our things and met Hamilton outside with a pair of packhorses, who would carry the load for us. That was a relief, since I'd packed some of the more valuable books I owned in my bag. We went up the road a-ways out of town and turned right. As soon as we rounded the bend, we came to a small house by an ill-maintained field. Hamilton told me that it was where I would be living, and left the horse with me so he could lead Mattes to his house. Shrugging, I walked the beast and I up to the porch of what would be my home for the next decade.

It wasn't much, to be honest. A run down shack might have been a better term for the living conditions. The horse neighed at it, and I rubbed his neck. "I know. It looks like crap. But this is what I've got to work with, isn't it?"

Tossing his head, the horse looked me dead in the eye. –_We both know where you live doesn't matter, Witchling. You will make the most of it. – _I laughed, because I had forgotten about the animal-speech momentarily. Nodding, I couldn't help but agree with him. Removing my burden from his back, I opened the front door to fully inspect my living quarters.

They weren't nearly as bad as they seemed from the outside. There were no visible holes in the ceiling and it seemed to have electricity. And a bed, table set and kitchen. That would be enough, to start. And I had money as well. So things were alright. Up against the wall were all of the chests and crates I had brought to the island two nights previous. I was pleasantly surprised to see that Dad had gotten them here already for me. Maybe he wasn't hopeless after all.

A series of knocks came to my attention, and I turned around to see the stallion standing with his forehoof raised over my porch. Unable to stifle a laugh, I cross the open room of the house to ruffle at his mane. "Yeah, I know. We'll make due." The horse nodded and let loose a hearty neigh, which made me laugh. I liked this stallion and all his sauce. "Who claims ownership of you, my friend?"

With a snort and the toss of the head, the stallion answered. –_The ranch man, Cain, claims ownership. He leaves me be though. I've taught him well not to trifle with me. _– I couldn't help but laugh at his response. It made a lot of sense. While rubbing his flank, I considered something.

"Are you content living at the ranch? With this man, Cain? I could try and see if I might trade currency for claim of ownership, if you'd prefer to be here." It was an offer I had to make, now that I'd spoken with this noble being.

He laughed, and I heard it both as speech and a whinny. _– I thank you for your kind offer, but I am content with my herd. My mate and our colt are happy to stay there. I will spread word of your presence, as I know folk who would accept such an offer. – _He then gave a nod of farewell and trotted out to the road to wait for Hamilton. The sly horse even looped the reins around the hitching post so it would look as if I'd done it. –_By the way, Witchling._ – His wise face swung around and he looked at me with his deep eyes. –_I go by Beyard, should you ever speak to the other beastfolk of me and our discussion. – _

"Well met Beyard. I am known as Meryl." I nearly let it stay at that when I thought of my brother, the animal inept to my adept. "Beyard." Upon hearing my call he turned back once more, his ears speaking his questioning. "My brother. He is called Mattes. He will most likely seek trade of the claim, but he cannot Speak. Please, spread the word that he too is gentle. He will be good to those for whom he makes the trade." Beyard nodded, and then Hamilton came up the road with the other horse.

"I hope the house is to your liking," the laughably round man asked as he approached. "It _has_ been awhile since anyone has lived in this house, but I'm positive nothing that bad could have happened. If you've like to make any renovations, you'll have to speak with Dale." And like that he was off, toddling down the road. But who was Dale? And renovations? How would I afford any of that? Shaking my head, I sunk to the porch. The damn thing creaked under my meager weight, and I started to question whether or not this house could stay upright for ten years.

For some time I think I sat there, trying to figure out how I would go about setting myself up correctly. Both Mattes and I had been given approximately 10,000 in the local currency, which I believe to have been gold. We were told that'd be enough to get us settled in the area, and it would also cover any medical expenses we might have, if we were wise with our spending. I didn't exactly have faith in those numbers, but I figured I'd have to.

The sun was high in the sky when I heard the sound of crunching dirt and gravel reached my ears. I had been laying on my back, eyes closed, listening to the sound of the ocean over the hills. From the weight of his steps, I identified the visitor as a man, taller than me, like most people, and well-built. His stride was steady, a man well balanced in himself.

"Oy. You there. Who are you?"

I opened to my eyes to piercingly bright sunlight and grimaced as I raised a hand to shade my eyes. The figure was standing close, too close, and threateningly. Immediately I felt my hackles stand, and I did not like this visitor. To hell with hospitality. He was on my land, as if he owned it. I decided right then and there, I did not like him.

"Well? I'm waiting, kid."

Jumping to my feet, I gave that insolent man-child the most aggressive shove I have ever mustered. What you need to know about me is that I am extremely against violence. But the rage that this…ugh, _he_ managed to get out of me was so unfamiliar physical was the only response I had. "My name is Meryl. And just _who_ in the _hell_ are you? Why are you on my land? Get off! Go! Leave, I didn't say you could be here!" Each sentence was punctuated with another shove.

Finally the stranger caught my wrist and twisted up and around, incapacitating me and keeping me from hitting him again. That's when I got a good look at him. He was tall, well-muscled, just I'd thought. He had shaggy brown hair that was some length between his ears and shoulders, and deep mossy eyes that sparked dangerously. He ought to be careful, should the spark catch it might burn that moss. And burn would I love to see it.

"Well, _Meryl_, who said you could live here? I was about to buy this land." The man held me up, nearly dangling me off the ground. I gave a good kick, and he only twisted my arm more. Oh, the hex I would be cooking up for this one later on tonight.

"The mayor said she could live here, and I'll thank you to unhand my sister before I help you."

Oh no. No, no no no. This would be ugly. Very ugly. Mattes is never calm, ever. Unless he is angry. Extremely angry. Enough to kill, even though he's supposed to take a vow of non-violence as a healer. He looked as if he could kill the stranger in that moment.

The man released me and I stumbled a bit, but to my credit I did not fall. My brother stepped in between the two of us, and I grabbed his arm. He was holding me back, in his way. I ought to do the same.

"Who are you, to handle my sister that way?"

"I'm Jack. And your damn sister laid her hands on me first, you backwater nobody."

"Jack." I hadn't seen Owen walk up, but there he was, Hayden and another large man on either side of him. "What've we told you about your temper?" The stranger, or I guess Jack, backed away, and folded his arms. "Why don't you get back to Yellow Ranch? I'm sure your cow needs you, or maybe those plants of yours." Jack didn't move. "Get Jack, before my friends and I decide to help you."

Jack got.

And I was left with four men on my front yard, and nothing to say.

* * *

**Author's Address: **I hope you enjoyed that. As per the norm, please, after you've read, leave a review. It makes my day when you do.


	3. Getting Started

The next morning I had become aware of my wakefulness to another knock at my door. Clad in just my underthings, I staggered to the peephole to see just who in their right mind thought to wake me up at this hour. It was my brother, grumpy and rumpled. I smacked the backside of the door with the heel of my hand.

"The hell do you want. You got any idea what time it is?" I yelled through the door at him, resting my cheek against the grainy surface of the wood. It was cool to my warm skin.

"Gotta get crap for farming, n' shit. It's eight o'clock, get yer lazy ass outta bed." Mattes sounded as tired as I felt, and I pitied him for a moment. Only a moment though. It was his choice to do this crap so early.

"Ugh, gimme a minute," I groaned through the door and went to my closet and yanked a tunic out. It was too early to think colors and normal clothes, screw that. Tunic and boots, that's it. Well, and a scarf. I could hear the wind outside blowing something fierce. Dressed in decent attire, I grabbed my new pack off of the table and plodded out to meet my brother. He looked cross, as usual. Locking my door was hard enough with the old hardware to work with, but his incessant sighing was annoying. "Let's go, you insufferable bore."

The walk to Soufflé Farm was uneventful. We saw some people, some people saw us, greetings were exchanged but no introductions. We saw a bird and passed a lake. Again, nothing important happened. We got there, bought some seeds and fertilizer and introduced ourselves to the farm folk. There was Craig, the gruff older man, Ruth, his friendly wife, and Anissa, their mysterious yet open daughter. Mattes was too sleepy, otherwise he would have noticed how beautiful the girl was. She didn't say very much, but was hard to ignore in her own right.

Seeds and saplings and fertilizer packed away, Mattes and I started our trek back. Since we were both considerably more conscious this time around, I took the opportunity to tell him about Beyard and the offer. He said he had been hoping to get a few animals, and this would prove to be a good help. He also asked about Jack and the incident, but I refused to talk about it. My inexplicable rage had ruined one apparently important relationship before it had even begun. But it wasn't my fault, he definitely started it, coming up to me all aggressively. I felt threatened and acted accordingly, that's all.

I went over the seeds I had purchased. Mattes had gotten a different variety than I had, and we were planning on helping out each other as best we could. While we had both gotten wheat and potato, he had opted to get turnips, cabbage and spicy peppers as well. Personally, I found the first two bitter and the latter unpleasant to ingest. I had gotten lettuce, strawberries and lavender. I didn't know much about processing cocoa, but I figured it wouldn't be too difficult. In addition, I had picked up some flowers and trees. The area around the house was so barren, and I had to imagine Mattes' wasn't much better. He didn't know it, but I was going to spruce up his place as well.

We walked together to my house and he continued on by himself. There were birds perched on the tattered clothesline tethered between the columns of the porch. It made for a quaint, patchwork feel. Tilting my head, I considered it as my life. Could I be content with a country lifestyle? While setting my farming equipment, I tried to envision the dump with a fresh coat of paint, nice curtains, and a real roof. Wasn't as bad as I thought, then. But that wasn't the house I was looking at, and it would be a long time until it was.

With a sigh, I turned from my hovel to my barren field. It was not as large as I had been expecting, but it was something I could work with, for sure. Craig had sold Mattes and I hoes and watering cans to start our farms. It was slow work, since I had to pull the weeds before I even started. I didn't want any of them spreading any further than it already was. Next, I watered the whole field. It took a good hour and a half, and thankfully the field wrapped around the well. While the soil was loosening, I went inside to see if there was any food. Of course, there wasn't, so I decided to walk down to the Inn.

My pocket watch told me that it was about two o'clock, so they would still be serving lunch. I knew that salads weren't on their menu, but I was hoping that they'd make an exception. They did not, but not in the way you'd think. When I asked Coleen for a salad, Yolanda stopped me and told me I needed something heartier than a salad to get meat on my bones. Even more so considering the fact that I was now working a farm too! They didn't tell me what they were going to give me. Instead, a blonde boy with charming eyes sat me down and chatted me up.

"I'm Chase," he said as he set down a bright yellow glass of liquid. The aroma of it came all the way across the table, citrus-y and tropical. It smelled like summer sunshine and fun. Chase, as he was called, leaned toward me with an open body. Since I knew he was looking, I followed this line of his arm up to his eyes. He was lean. But strong. And his eyes, a striking shade of purple, were dangerous and inviting. Like open arms under a long drop. My instincts told me he would be one to watch out for in my time here on the island. In my peripheral vision, I saw the wide-hipped girl glaring daggers at me. Of course she liked him. Not that it bothered me. I'd never been pursued in my life, since I'd gone to the Keep at such a young age. You had to be an Apprentice before you were allowed to meet other students of the opposite gender. That way you were kept from being distracted in your studies. Mattes and I were an exception.

"They call me Meryl," I replied, crossing my ankles and looking up at him coyly. I should probably mention that Mattes and I do have an accent. Well. No. The islanders are the ones with the accent. We speak in an entirely normal manner. You know, properly pronouncing our vowels long and strong. The Ancient's language, the one used in all spellwork, is the basis for all speech. So really, we're right, and they're wrong.

"Well, Meryl, it is a pleasure to meet you." His voice, now that I listened, was lilting. The pitch of his words changed throughout the duration of his sentence. And the "t" in "meet" had blended somewhat with "you", so it ended up sounding a little like a sneeze. Of course, I held my tongue. There was no need to tell him any of that.

"I agree, Chase."

Thankfully, I was saved from further conversation by Yolanda shouting for Chase. Apparently his pie was burning. He went pale, and rushed away without so much as a word. But I understood. Whenever a spell starts to go wrong, you drop what you're doing and fix the breaking or broken link as quickly as possible.

Soon after the girl brought out my food. Her nametag read "Maya". I made a point to avoid confrontation with Maya, since she definitely had a crush on her coworker. But since food is why I went to the Inn in the first place, I turned to analyze my meal. There was a dish with a bit of pudding in it, and a large bowl of hearty soup. It smelled amazing, of salt and maybe a bit of basil? I couldn't be sure. I dug in, and was not disappointed. As a feat of true strength of will, I finished the entire meal, including dessert. I left a considerable tip, and a made a point of thanking Yolanda for her intervention. She only smiled and gave a nod before returning to her work. Chase did not look up from his pie.

By the time I got back to the house, the soil was wet and ready to be tilled. The sun was a few hours yet from setting, so I grabbed my hoe from the side of the house and started. In my palm the handle felt worn, and the spade tired. I hefted it up to my shoulder and swung down, breaking a few clods free. The work went like that for a while, until I began to tire. The swings became a lot less animated after that point. When I was finally done, I really did not want to plant the seeds as well. I just wanted to dump a bucket of water on myself and crawl in bed.

I knew what I needed. Dropping the hoe at the door, I pulled the key to my house from my pocket. As the door swung open to reveal the soft darkness within, a cool breeze caressed my ankles. I shut the door quickly behind me, glad that at least the house was insulated properly. Crossing to my chests, I began to rummage through the ingredients case. There was a specific herb that I was looking for… There! A small wooden box with a green, jagged edged leaf painted on the lid. Undoing the clasp, I pulled one mint leaf out and laid it on my tongue. Then I began to chew. Don't get grossed out or anything, the mint flavor is actually derived from mint leaf. The taste was refreshing, and gave me the burst of energy I needed to just get my work done and over with.

By the time I finished, it was well after dark, and I hadn't even gotten to the flowers and saplings. But mint can only do so much. Dirty, tired and a tad smelly, I plodded into my house. Unfortunately, there was no indoor plumbing. Behind the house there was a small shed for doing business, and a large wooden tub for bathing. Not one to ever take a cold bath, I took a few stones that I had found in the field earlier and placed them on a bare bit of dirt. Taking some twigs, I made a rough circle around the five stones, and sprinkled a bit of chili pepper into the center.

On my person, though they may be difficult to locate, I carry gems. And runes, but that's neither here nor there. The gems are part of my trade. When I was younger, I worked with a smith to have these stones set in a base, then hung by chains to form a delicate collection of droplets. I think they're beautiful, really, but they probably look like baubles to any non-mage. But enough of that, there was one particular gem I was looking for.

Ruby. Obvious associations to fire would be correct in their nature. I held the ruby between my thumb and forefinger, and while drawing the sign for fire, I also spoke the word in the Ancient's language. A large fire spawned from the pepper flakes, and when it had died away, the stones were red hot. I washed the hoe off, and used it to drop the stones into the tub. Knowing I would be too tired to bother later, I had filled it with water soon after starting the seeding when I realized how dirty I would be.

It took very little time for the water to heat up, and when it was sufficiently warm, I removed three of the rocks and moved the other two to the far side of the tub so I could actually bathe. Now for the part I hated. Being naked. I could be bare, for a spell or simply being in nature freely, but around other people, stripping away my clothing was a nervous thing. After casting about to make sure the way was clear, I speedily removed my clothing and plunged into the water.

It was warm, and the heat soothed my already aching muscles. The steam from the water rose up into the air, and coiled wonderfully through the trees. It had been a long time since I could relax, and feel like I was away from prying eyes. My backyard backed up to a cliff with a bit of a forest separating the part not against the rock face from the outside world. It was like my own little haven, right out of the villagers' eyes.

I let a little of the magic I'd been forcing down out, and it was like stretching after sitting through a particularly long and boring lecture. It tumbled out of the tub and over the ground like yarn, lessening in power the further out it went. A bit of it leapt into the air and formed a small floating light, dim but still visible. A bit more turned into some blue and green flowers , and the rest simply ruffled the grass playfully. Washing myself, I couldn't help but playfully poke at the globe with my toes. It brightened, and then started to fade away. After all, magical energy only lasts so long. By the time I was dumping the water from the tub out into the grass, it was long gone. The flowers had withered as well, which was a shame, but unavoidable. I rolled the empty tub up to my house and leaned it against an exposed pipe before making my way inside and into my bed.

The last thing I remember doing was pulling the familiar covers from home up to my chin, and feeling very, very lonely.


	4. We Made a Deal

After the discussion with the Witchling, Beyard had returned with Dilah, his mate, to their herd-place on the hill. The round man had given their leads to the House man, Cain. Almost immediately Cain had turned them both loose to join the other horses in the field. Their young colt, Tobias, trotted up to the as soon as he scented them. He chatted about some squirrel he and the other colts had been chasing, and Dilah attempted to quiet him. Beyard had a very particular mission in mind.

At the head of the hill, Beyard stood and called for the herd to gather. It took very little time for them to come, and settle in a half circle around him. As usual, the younger stallions snorted and stamped at the ground, declaring their obedient defiance. Until one of them beat him out as Head of the Herd, Beyard had their fealty.

"Brothers, sisters, we are now faced with a unique opportunity." There was a pause then, as the herd quieted, and a slight breeze blew through the Big Tree. "We have two new Mages on the island. A Witchling and a Wizard. The Witchling has the Speech, and has offered to make the Trade of Claim for any of us who would prefer a different place to live. Are there any who would take this chance?"

There was no response. Beyard was about to end the Gathering when one of the older colts and a mare walked forward. The colt was quiet and withdrawn, while the mare tossed her mane as they stepped forward. It was Nanai-da, a wind-runner, and Gareth, the son of a stone-dragger. Gareth's dam and sire had been bought from the farmer, and had not been heard from since. Nanai-da had offered to care for Gareth, as her filly had not lived past the Dropping.

"We will go." Nanai-da was an all-black vision of beauty, rippling muscles and well-kept mane and tail. Her hooves were quick and light wherever she trod. "Gareth Heavy-Hooves, and I, Nanai-da Wheat-Walker, will go with the Witchling. We have heard of her from the rabbits. She will be kind to us." Gareth kept his head low as he stood beside the mare. He was of a heavy, old breed. Russet coat and pale mane and tail, he would one day be a strong stallion. But not that day. He had yet to grow into his place.

"Your bravery is noted, and it shall be. Now, the Wizard. Who would go with him? I have been assured he possesses a gentle hand and calm voice. Any complaints could be communicated through the Witchling." Immediately a stallion stepped forward, one of the more troublesome of the herd. Beyard waited for another to come forward, but none did. He pitied the young Wizard, as he would need his sister's help very much with this one. "So you will take up this task, Marion?"

"Aye." A strawberry roan, he was halfway between a runner and a dragger. An all-purpose horse for a starting farmer. But spirited. The stallion would not be broken easily.

"It is decided."

As the herd went their separate ways, Beyard watched the three who had volunteered. Gareth was standing flank to flank with Nanai-da, and Marion was near them. It looked as if the mare and stallion were discussing something.

From that point until the day they left the Herdland, they were always together.


	5. Strangers

When I realized I was awake I was cocooned in the coverings I had brought with me from the Keep. They were familiar to me, but thick with the smell of the Keep. In fact, once I sat up, heady with sleep and smelled the air, the whole house was starting to take on the scent of herbs. It was missing the thousand year old books and burn tapestries, but it still smelt a little like home. Well…My old home. I guess any way the house smelt would smell like home. Rolling over, I let my cheek rest on the cool pillows I'd brought for the bed. How could I make this place more my own? There was so much to do. I'd have to completed renovate the house, and there was no money for that.

Money. I needed to keep an account book, or else I'd be out more money than I realized. After I dragged myself out of bed I grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper from the shelf, one of the very few things that had been in the house when I got there. I took the 10,000 gold I had started with, and took off everything I'd paid in seeds and saplings. Between that and the food I'd been getting at the Inn, I was down around near 8,000 gold after only a day. I laid my head in my hands and wondered how I would get by. It'd be a long time before I could get started with a barn, or even a chicken coop. Then I thought about meat.

Ugh. Meat. I wouldn't be able to butcher animals I could speak with. I could eat meat before, since I'd never spoken to the animals, or even thought about it. But the idea of walking past a steer with a hunk of beef just felt wrong. I would I have to limit myself to just fish from here on out.

Back to my crisis. I tallied numbers, and considered how I would get animals. I tried to figure out how exactly to handle that, but quickly realized that without information I was lost. Going to the Carpenter's and the Ranch were necessary to progress any further.

I decided not to be overly complicated for the day. No fancy outfits, that was all a bunch of posturing crap. Braiding my hair into a single coil over my shoulder, I pulled one of my tunics from the chest and yanked it on over a shift and leggings. It was one of the many garments permitted in the keep, and this one was a favorite. Deep blue with golden threading, it might have been a bit rich looking, but it was plain in all actuality. Shoving the notepad and pencil into my pack, I pulled the curtains and locked up shop.

Now, I _could_ have walked through the Lake District and then to the carpenter's to avoid Jack's ranch. However, I felt lazy, and a part of me wanted to yell at him again. I promised myself I wouldn't, but still found myself walking in that direction. I held my head high and marched past, all the while sizing up his plants and livestock. He had a flowering field and orchard, and I spotted at least three cows, four sheep and a horse as well as a flock of chickens. I couldn't help but be a bit jealous. His house was very, very nice, but lacked a feminine touch. It was all building and work materials littering the ground around the porch, not a bright color or flower for miles.

I kept walking, and didn't encounter Jack. Part of me wished we had crossed paths, but I had a full agenda for the day, and I didn't need any distractions.

First off was the carpenter's. There I met Dale, who explained how renovations and building worked at its essence. Then I met Bo and Luke, the two young men who also helped out around the store. I was rewarded with an axe for my fine social skills, which Dale said would be needed in cutting lumber for any project.

After that, I began to walk toward the Ranch district when a familiar voice called out to me.

"Meryl! Hey, wait up!" When I turned, all I saw was a redheaded behemoth running in my direction. With a small giggle, I stopped and waited for him to catch up to me, per his request. Once he drew even with me, though out of breath, he smiled. "What're you up to today?"

I shrugged and gave a smile of my own. "Oh, just errands. I'm headed to Cain's next to see if I can't work out a deal about getting some livestock."

"Are you busy right now?"

"…well, kinda. Errands, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah, those. It's just, I remembered that you still haven't been by the Blacksmith, and I figured it might be in your interest. Just, you know, so you know about the business."

I felt bad, since Owen was just trying to be helpful, so I went along with it. I ended up meeting Ramsey, Chloe, Mira and Julius, and was quite surprised that five people fit inside the store at the same time. Six did, it turns out, and not that comfortably. It was much too warm, it smelled unpleasant and that over-bearing drag queen really started to creep me out. As I left, Owen handed me a hammer, saying it was useful for a lot of things. About to reach my limit of human interaction for one day, I quickly thanked him and left.

I've said that I'm not found of crowds, right? I mean, at least it should have been implied that I don't do more than a few people at any one time. Two is the max I can handle well. Any more than that and I start to go odd.

I made my way to the ranch after that. Cain was very gracious about working out a deal with me, and even told me that if I gave my word that I was good on the money, he would let me look through the herds and flocks. I told him I would have a barn hopefully by the end of the month, and that seemed to satisfy him. He let me out into the field to look the livestock over, and went back to the shop. Cain seemed to realize I knew plenty about animals, which is true.

The horses made it very apparent that I would speak with them first. Beyard and the other horse Hamilton had had approached me, a spirited colt in tow.

_-Well met, young Witch. I see you've made good on your promise.- _Beyard tossed his head and looked me in the eye.

"Of course I have. I cannot make the Trade today, but I've come to meet with those who have volunteered to leave."

-_Two of mine have volunteered to go with you. I hope that shall not be a problem.-_

I balked a little at that. Two horses? I mean, that would cause an issue. How would I handle the rest of the herd then? I guess I could do two cows, a goat and three sheep. That would work fine, in addition to flock I was going to get. Beyard called over the two who expressed a wish to go with me, and I got a look at my first animals as a rancher.

The mare was a beautiful Morgan, proud and sure. Her coat gleamed like onyx in the midday sun. The other was a young Clydesdale, not quite yet a stallion, but hardly a colt. I had a vision of riding the mare, and the colt as a stallion pulling a wagon behind him. It was a silly image, but I knew that this was a good match. The mare introduced herself as Nanai-da, and the colt as Gareth. After introducing myself, we worked out how we manage convincing Cain of this arrangement.

Then came the livestock, which was just a huge confusing blur. I ended up with two steers, Mabel and Sable, a goat named Ramona, and two sheep by the names of Doug and Dave. There was also an ostrich that seemed to be giving me the eye, but I really was not interested. Those things freak me right the hell on out. I would have nothing to do with them if I had anything to say about it.

The chickens were cake. Partly because they just squabble and squawk, even in the Speech. I ended up with three ladies and a rooster; Harriet, Susan, Jillian and James.

All of those that I had made an agreement with helped when I pointed them out to Cain. Every last one of them came to the front of their respective groups, but didn't draw a lot of attention to themselves. It was nice, knowing I had all of this squared away. After my harvest I hoped to have enough to trade for most of them, but in the back of my mind I knew Nanai-da and Gareth would be coming back first.

I spent the remainder of the daylight hours chopping lumber in Praline forest and splitting boulders for the building materials. I even got to put in the building order for my barn, and was able to walk home with my weary shoulders held high. Physical labor was not my strong suit, and every bit of me ached. Even my skin, which was dry and burnt on every exposed bit.

Before going to the waterfall, which I had been told was good for sunburns since the water flowed straight from the roots of the Mother Tree, I went home. In a few minutes I had a balm made up from a bit of aloe, cocoa butter, beeswax and a couple of other herbs I'd had on hand. It reeked something fierce, but if the recipe I used was right, my sunburn would definitely be gone by the morning.

The moon was already high in the sky when I snuck out of my house wrapped in a cloak. Yes, I know it's cliché, leave it be. They are surprisingly good towels as well as jackets, and I was only wearing the shift underneath the thing. So be quiet, it's not as if I'm some mysterious stranger out for a midnight ride o'er the purple moor. I was as silent as the dead as I crept around the bend near Jack's house and slipped into the forest.

It was a bit of a walk to the waterfall up the river, so I spent that time thinking of my Tour. I still needed to get to the far side of the island where my dad and the witch lived. The way was past the Mother Tree, hidden by enchantments and wards to prevent non-mages from stumbling across it. He'd even told me once they'd placed an illusion over that entire forest so nothing could be seen from this side. I doubted it, but combined they might've pulled it off.

The falls were more beautiful than I'd expected. The spray caught moonlight in it and glittered like diamonds. It made me feel like some sort of goddess as I sunk into the almost too cold water of the river. Against my burning skin it felt fantastic, and the water moving freely around my body was a new sensation as well. Half-submerged, I began to unbraid my hair and work it loose. It was soft, despite the lack of attention it had received. I'm not a particularly vain girl, but my hair is the one thing I pride myself on. In the moonlight it glowed white, just like my dad's. Leaning back into the water, I let my hair fan out on the surface. It felt nice, to just be, and be left alone for a bit. I didn't have to lie. I could be just Meryl, not the farmer Meryl, or the mage-in-training Meryl. Just Meryl.

I wished, a bit selfishly I admit, that I could always be just Meryl. That I wouldn't never have to change for anyone. Ducking under the water, I admonished myself. It was unrealistic to think I would never have to adapt. Narrow-minded was all that was, at best. I broke the surface and flipped my mop of hair over my head. I couldn't stand wet hair on my face. It was like seaweed, clinging and-

"Who is that? Who's there?"

A shiver ran down my spine and my blood ran colder than the river I stood, submerged barely up to my breasts in. Someone had just called out. Within twenty feet of me, my naked self, there was another person.

Oh shit.

"I know you're there, just come clean. Anyone could've heard you, stomping up the path like a rhino."

"Well screw you Jack! And I'm no damn rhino, you can go to hell!" My mouth vomited up those sentences without asking my brain first, and I immediately regretted it. The sound of someone running on gravel became louder with every second, and each crunch was another goose bump on my skin. I did my best to cover myself, since I knew if I tried to get to my clothes at that point he'd just find me half out of the water and very naked. At least in the water I had some blur.

The sound of heavy breathing reached my ears, and I turned toward the noise. Jack was standing at the edge of the pool, flushed and definitely exerted. His expression was a mixture of rage, confusion, and some other emotion I couldn't identify. My hair was doing a fairly good job at keeping me decent up top, and I figured if I didn't turn all the way around I would get by on bottom.

Neither of us spoke, at first. I just sort of stood in the pool, fairly calm, while he seemed to have a miniature internal spat with himself.

"What…" he finally stammered, having finally stopped panting like a fifteen year old dog in the summer. "What are you?"

His words caught me off guard. What was I? What sort of question is that? So I spoke those exact words, and he startled.

"I-I'm sorry. I've been drinking some tonight, and I mistook you for someone else. I'm very sorry." Jack then turned to leave, but for some reason I wanted to know just who he knew that had had white hair and skin as pale as mine.

"Who did you think I was?"

Jack didn't speak. He just looked at me, and there was an unfathomable depth in his stare.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'll be releasing chapter six in a few days. As always, reviews are appreciated after reading. And if you have any questions, suggestions or comments, please feel free to shoot me a PM. I'm more than happy to answer them.


	6. Too Soon

It was the three year anniversary of saving this island. Not that a single damn villager knew or cared. They never paid attention to what I did, save to advise me to marry or remind me of upcoming festivals. It was all the same in that small provincial town. Nothing ever changed, nothing ever would.

Except those two new brats. The burly looking foreigner and his ethereal sister. At first people had thought they were married, since they were so close, but of course they'd be siblings. It only makes it that much weirder that they both showed up at the island at the same time to get into the Ranch plan. I'd given up hope of having neighbors soon after moving here, and had gotten fond of being alone. Now I'd have to share with those two.

Not to mention the little wraith acted like she was entitled to anything she was just handed. I skimped for months to have the money to finally buy that piece of land, and on my way to get it I find her just lying on the deck! It was infuriating.

So I drank. That's what I always did, when things went wrong. Bury my head in a few cocktails and ride out the hangover in the morning. I drank until I went numb, and everything went away.

Then I heard someone on the path. No one should have been on the path that late at night. It had to have been the wraith and that thick idiot, going to mess around with the falls. Not on my watch, they wouldn't. I grabbed my coat and stumbled out the door. Jumping the fence, I knew it wouldn't take too long to catch up to them. After all, they were just a couple of dumb kids. What could they do?

"Who is that?" I shouted at them, even though I already knew. Of course I knew, who wouldn't know? "Who's there?" The words came out a little slurred, and that's when I knew I was good and drunk. Futilely, I tried to sober up some. When no response came, I tried to provoke the big one. "I know you're there, just come clean. Anyone could've heard you, stomping up the path like a rhino." But still, nothing. And more nothing. And then came a response that I'd both expected and not thought would come at all.

"Well screw you Jack! And I'm no damn rhino, you can go to hell!"

It was the girl. Not the oaf, but the girl. She'd seemed fiery when I'd met her, but that could have been anything. Instead, the same girl shouted a reply at me. I was confused. Stumbling my way up the rest of the path, I was prepared to confront her.

In my life, I'd only fallen in love once. The woman was everything I had ever wanted, perfection, grace and beauty all in one. I'd have given everything to be with her. I saw her once, and only once. It had been three years ago to the day, and I hadn't stopped loving her since we met.

A woman stood in the pool, barely covered by the long, pale hair that floated around her like a mist. The moonlight glistened on the pale, smooth skin of her arms, and her eyes were bright, but distant at the same time. It took me back three years, looking at the love of my life as I fell for her and she broke my heart.

"What… What are you?" The words came from that other time, directed at a different creature entirely, but I wanted me answer nonetheless. This pale vision submerged in liquid starlight could tell me, couldn't she?

"What am I? What sort of question is that?" Once she spoke, she wasn't so much a wonder from another world as the beauty that had just washed ashore. She was Meryl, the new farming girl, trying to take a bath. And I had blundered in on her like a drunk fool. And clearly she was unnerved, trying to hide herself with her arms. I was a fool, a drunken, stupid fool. Who did I think I was?

"I-I'm sorry. I've been drinking some tonight, and I mistook you for someone else. I'm very sorry." I gave the only apology I could think of, and turned heel to get away from that place. All I could think of was _her_, her grace and compassion. Her words of kindness and thanks. I'd wanted to live in that moment forever. But it ended, and left me feeling hollow after. I would go home, throw away all of that damn Devil's drink, and try to start over. Someplace new, maybe. But not there. I couldn't live there anymore.

"Who did you think I was?"

I stopped, and turned to look at her. This girl, who knew nothing about this island, what I'd done for it or its history. She'd only turned up out of the blue to fuck things up. But she couldn't be blamed. How could she have known of the hell I lived? She couldn't, that's the point. To her, I was probably just some jerk she would have to put up with for the rest of her life. Maybe. Who knew how much longer I'd live. Jin told me I was destroying my liver at the rate I drank. But still. She looked so similar as the Harvest Goddess, with the same pale skin and mysteriously beautiful charm. They weren't the same, and the differences were both numerous and obvious. Still, I couldn't help staring, even though I knew she would never understand why I did.

I was in love, and I would never see her again.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, reviews are welcomed and appreciated. May I just say that handling all the loose threads of this story is _quite_ the complex task!


	7. Chapter 7

Jack had stumbled away, very much intoxicated but quiet. I finished bathing quickly, and went home. I felt small and very insignificant, walking wet and alone down the wide and empty road. A breeze from the southeast had kicked up since I had gone to the falls, and it blew right through the cloak, chilling me. It was almost as if the wind hit me, and as it blew though snatched away the little strength I had left. Shivering, I sped up. It was not wise to remain outside long, wet as I was. Spring nights had a deceptive chill and were prone to giving me colds. The faster I made it home, the less likely it would be that any illness would develop.

When I finally did make it to my doorsteps, I felt as if my legs weighed more than my entire self. It was a chore to drag myself across the room, discarding my balm and cloak in a pile near the door. Upon reaching my bed, I crawled under the covers and pulled them as close as I could to my thin body.

I don't remember falling asleep at all throughout that night. It was a bit of a haze, where I wasn't sure when I was awake or if maybe I was on the edge of sleep. All I know is that when morning came, I was awake to watch the sun color my curtains. Completely certain that I had in fact gotten sick, I hoped that Mattes might sense that something was wrong and come help me. As the morning wore into the afternoon, no one came to my door, and I only began to feel worse. When I tried to get out of bed, nausea draped itself over me like a scarf, and abandoned that venture. The whole day was blurring into one horrid nightmare, and I just wanted to wake up.

Sometime around dusk there was a knock at my door. I'd been saving my energy all day for this. As loudly as I could, I shouted to come in, but it came out raspy and weak. The person at the door apparently heard this, and pushed the still unlocked door open.

"Meryl, why haven't you been to visit-" The voice was familiar, and so was the body, though I could not see the face of my visitor. Taller than Mattes, the figure smelt of coffee and herbs, a scent from my childhood. As they crossed the room to lean over me, I tried not to look so helpless. They shook their head, and sighed. "Meryl, you know you're easily susceptible to sickness. You shouldn't do this to yourself." The stranger lit the lamp on my bedside table, and I grimaced at my father.

"'S not my fault…" I tried to mumble, but it came out a lot more garbled. I doubt my dad made any sense of it at all. He laid the back of his hand against my forehead and sighed again. "You're running a fever." After that I remember he went into my supplies and began to work something intently while I tried not to vomit in my bed.

Long after the sun had gone down he came over to me with a glass. "Drink," he said sternly as he held it up to my lips. I did, since I learned not to disobey my father a very long time ago. He kept it there as long as it took for me to finish the potion, and then stepped quickly to the side. The crap in the glass tasted awful, and I suddenly I felt stronger. Strong enough to throw the covers off of my body. Strong enough to stand up. I was even strong enough to walk, then strong enough to run to the door.

And then I threw up.

There should have been nothing in my stomach to vomit up, but I was outside for a while. At first I didn't realize it, but then I noticed a hand rubbing my back. Over my shoulder I spotted my dad, a worried look on his face.

"You really ought to take care of yourself…" His tone was admonishing, but gentle. Mom was the one who was always gave the stern punishment. Dad had his way. When finally all that came out of my mouth were foul, rasping gasps, dad walked me back inside and tucked me into bed. I knew he wanted to ask if I was taking care of myself, but I think he knew. After all, when you're half-carrying a person who had a problem with their eating habits, it was hard to not notice how light they were. I didn't have time to eat. When you've got an Apprenticeship on the line, some things are more important.

The last thing I remembered was my dad's silhouette as he sat next to my bed stroking my hair. In the morning he was gone, not that I was surprised. Dad didn't do sick people well since mom. I sat up, and my stomach only turned a little bit. For that, I was thankful. As a Wizard, dad's specialty had always been potions. His definitely had fixed me up. I felt grimy and disgusting, but I wasn't sick. As far as I could tell. As I got out of bed, I made a mental note to get to the clinic for a check-up in a day or two. I might not be able to tell if I was cured, but dad knew his way around a tonic. There was no way I was still sick.

There was a note on the kitchen table with a few more bottles of potion, along with a basketful of food. Before reading the note I looked through the basket to see what sort of food my father thought I needed to be eating. There was bread, butter, cheese, smoked fish, hell, more food than I knew what to do with. There was even more than what I listed! Vegetables and fruits too. He'd included a bushel of medicinal herbs as well. Finally I turned to the note, and read through it.

It was just dad asking me to be more careful with my health, because now that I was farming it was doubly important to keep myself well-fed. He'd been notified multiple times by my mentor that I'd had an eating problem, but hadn't realized it was this pronounced. I scoffed at that. He made it sound as if it were an eating disorder, and not just me forgetting to eat when I wasn't hungry.

See, what mortals don't understand that magic exists within the body, and is dependent on it. The food I eat fuels my body, and my body fuels my magic. So when I eat, my talent siphons off nutrients from me to keep itself going. At a young age in inexperienced mages, this transfer of energy is highly pronounced. Cases like mine aren't uncommon. Most mages that have it, however, learn to control it quickly. I never did learn, and in the note my father mentions teaching me some exercises to contain it. All my life I've just had to eat more to compensate, but I hadn't had the access to the food I needed on the island. That's why my dad had left so much, until I could get what I needed that should tide me over.

I laid the note back on the table, and crossed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. After a drink to clear the taste of stale bile from my mouth, I figured I would be in a mood to eat. I was, much to my relief. I wrapped myself up in a loose robe that fell to the floor and cut myself a slice of bread and slathered it with butter. I know, it sounds gross, but I like buttered bread. It's simple, and gratifying.

As I ate, I moved to the window to see what it was like out. Thankfully it was raining still, so I wouldn't have to water my crops. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied that the flag of my mailbox was raised. Staying out of the wet, I snuck my hand out the door and snatched the letter from the cold metal trap. Shutting the door, I stuck the bread in my mouth and tore open the envelope. It was a notice from Dale, saying that they were ready to start building the barn the barn the next day if I was able to pay. Sighing, I looked out the window. I would go pay, but later. Once I had my strength up. Who knows, it could even clear up.

It didn't, but the rain did lessen two hours later, as I was organizing my new household. When I heard the lightening of the constant noise on the roof, I bundled myself up, jumped into a pair of rainboots, grabbed my umbrella and bolted out the door. The gold jangled in my pocket awkwardly, and the dirt road was all mud as I sloshed through it. As I passed, I saw that Jack's lights were on. Furrowing my brow, I tromped on. Jack's problems were not mine, and I preferred it that way.

Dale was in, and unsurprised to see me. I'd brought him all the required materials he needed to build the barn we'd discussed. I handed over the money, and we talked for a bit. He asked if I was feeling alright, and I admitted than I was getting over a brief illness. I also said that I was fine, but I thought that it might be a good idea if I got back to bed soon. Dale agreed, and wished me better health as I walked out the door.

Briefly I entertained the notion of going to tell Cain that the barn would be built soon, and I'd be able to keep our deal. Thinking better of it for my well-being, I decided I'd just write a note to go out in the post in the morning. I'd go home, make myself a good meal, and get to sleep early.

"Meryl, is that you?"

I looked over my shoulder to see Owen in a grey raincoat walking in my direction. Stopping to wait for him to catch up, I gave a wave.

"Thought it was you. How are you? You look a little pale, did you catch something?" Owen matched stride with me, and walked with me as I headed back to my place. He was covered in dark dust, and where the rain hit his face it made muddy tracks down his face. It looked a little silly.

"I'm alright, I did actually," I admitted sheepishly. "I got caught in the rain when it rolled in last night, and caught a bit of a cold. I'm alright now, I took…my medicine." I changed what I had been about to say, as I realized that calling it a tonic might not go over well with a mortal. Owen was kind, which was what I liked about him, and he seemed intelligent, but he didn't need to know my secret.

"That's good. Did you get it from the clinic? Jin and Irene make some pretty good medicine. Chloe had this really bad fever once, and it cleared right up after she took it." Owen was smiled, even though I could see the rain was pelting him in the face.

"Um… No, it was homemade, actually." It wasn't completely untrue. Technically it was made in my home, just not by me. "You know, old family recipes." I shrugged.

"Ah, fair enough. Did you know that we used to get our medicines from witches and wizards?" I stopped and looked at him sharply. He balked a little. "What? It's true." For a moment I held me stare, and then started walking again.

"I've never heard of that," I lied quietly. This was a subject we should not tiptoe around. "But it hardly matters when you can just buy medicine though." We rounded the bend near my house, and I pulled my keys out of my pocket. Suddenly I wondered just where Owen was going. So I asked.

"Oh, nowhere really. You seemed a little wobbly on your feet, so I wanted to make sure you got back here alright. You need help with anything inside?" His gesture was sweet, and I would have felt bad if he had walked all this way for nothing, so I said yes, if only to get him inside and offer him a snack or something. As I unlocked the door I was thankful for the fact that I'd put all of my equipment away earlier. I let Owen in first, and locked the door behind me. Sneakily, of course. I didn't want Owen to freak out over it, I just didn't feel right being in my house without locking the door.

"What would you like me to move?" Owen was leaning on the back on a chair, looking quite casual in my one room abode.

"The bookshelf, please. I haven't got any books, it's just the shelves." He'd taken off his jacket, which I hung by the door. He'd gotten the unit away from the wall, and was look to me to see where I wanted it. "Over here, if you would. By the window." He moved it quickly and with barely any effort it seemed. I was envious of how strong he was. I crossed to the kitchen and looked at him. "Would you like a drink or something?"

"What've you got? I could go for a snack, I suppose." Owen dusted his hands off. Grabbing his shirt, he scrubbed the dirt from his face. He'd almost gotten all of it, save for a small patch in the middle of his forehead. Laughing, I wet a scrap of cloth and walked up to him.

"Do you mind?" He laughed and shook his head, and I wiped the smuch away. "There. All clean," I said with a laugh. Going back to the kitchen, I hung the rag over the faucet and washed my hands. "I've got some boiled eggs and raspberry juice. How about that?"

"It sounds fantastic." Owen sat one the corner of the table and stretched his arms. Withdrawing two glasses from the cupboard, I poured juice and set eggs in a shallow dish. Setting them on the table, I gave Owen a look.

"So. What makes a guy like you want to walk a girl home on a rainy day?" I split an egg and popped the yoke out into the garbage. As daintily as I could, I took a bite.

"Why shouldn't I? You looked like you could use a friend, and I didn't have anything to do today." Owen took a swig of his drink and took a bite from the egg. I wrinkled my nose at that. Yokes are gross. They taste bad, in my opinion. Owen gave me a solid look. "Besides, I figured you could use somebody looking out for you. Your brother's a great guy, but he's…"

"I know," I said as he trailed off, unable to find words. "He's kind of distracted. It's always been that way. I've always been concentrated on what I've got to do, but he finds something to sidetrack him. Honestly, I have no idea where he is. I haven't seen him recently." I wrapped an arm around myself. My brother meant well, but it's not as if he'd always been there for me. When he'd caught a cold once, I knew right away he was ill. He didn't even know anything was wrong. Or at least he didn't bother if he knew. I love him, don't get me wrong, he's just not for everyone. It happens. "He gets it from our dad. I'm goal-oriented like our mother."

"Oh? Where are your parents?" Owen leaned forward, his face serious. "No offense, but you look a little young to be taking care of yourself."

Shaking my head, I crossed to my made up bed, and sat down. "My father's…around." I didn't want to say the next part out loud. Avoiding that sentence, I watched the rain come down outside my window. Owen set his glass on the table and came to sit next to me on the bed. My face felt itchy, and when I went to scratch it, my hand came away wet. As Owen put his arm around my shoulder, I realized I was crying. I hardly ever cried. "My mom died about eight years ago. You could say our family fell apart after that."

Owen didn't say anything for a while. He just rubbed my back comfortingly, and let me cry until I was done. When the tears stopped coming, he gave me a one-armed hug. "I'll clean up," was all he said. As I sat on my bed, wiping the traitorous signs of crying from my face, he put the eggs back into the refrigerator and cleaning the cups. When he was done, he came over and gave me a good, proper hug. "If you ever need to just unwind and relax, come find me. We'll find something for you to do," he said with a smile. I nodded, and he left.

I smiled to myself when he'd gone. It was nice having a friend.


	8. Chapter 8

Nothing of much importance happened for the next few days. Owen and I hung out a few times, Dale, Bo and Luke built my barn, and I made my first harvest. The profit was quite considerable, about five thousand gold. I counted, and recounted the bits, all too excited to have money again. Trading for the animals, buying the seeds, commissioning the barn and my miscellaneous purchases had ate well into my store of coin. It felt nice to have a cushion again.

I'd also been drawing up the plans for my renovations. Dale and I had sat down one night, while the boys were out gathering lumber, and worked on what would work well for me. For a carpenter, he was very unassuming. When I'd had to make additions, such as a high room with a window for placement of my star-reading instruments, not that I mentioned that, he had found a way to work that in without a trouble. It had been a long day, and we'd gone through many sheaves of paper. I found that I enjoyed his company, his gruff care reminding me of my mom. He was very funny as well, teasing me about the less-than-golden suggestions I made.

The final draft showed the house I had been seeing whenever I looked upon my hovel with a dreamy eye. It featured an open kitchen, with a six-person (why would six people ever _need_ to be in my house all at once?) dining set, an archway that opened into the hall with a cozy bedroom on the right, and my bathroom on the left. In the little nook the hallway created was a sitting area that sported a television, of all things! Around the corner from that was the staircase that went upstairs. The second story sported three rooms off of a narrow hallway. Two were tucked on the right, and the locked door at the end of the hall would open into my private study. Dale suggested the extra rooms, just to save future renovations in case I needed another bedroom, or a storage room. He was kind enough not to question the purpose of the large room.

The renovations would begin on the 25th, leaving them able to still take the 28th off as a holiday. How they planned on re-doing that entire beast in three days was beyond me. To be polite I refrained from questioning their sanity out loud.

Owen was over, helping me do my laundry from the first week of being on the island. There was dirt buried into nearly every fiber of the garments, and grass stains on the knee of all my trousers. Owen laughed at the size of many of the articles, and got soapy water splashed at him multiple times for it. It didn't bother me to have him helping me hang the things up. I'd already washed the things I'd be embarrassed for him to see, such as my underwear and bras. My job was to wash and rinse and he hung them up on the wire that strung itself over my porch.

"What's this, then?" Owen asked, holding up a vivid green dress I had not known needed washing. I hadn't worn it on the island yet. It was gorgeous, my favorite by far. Pale silver embroidered it along the sides and across the neckline, twisting flowers and diving birds. It was my best work by far. One of the older Witches had charmed it to never rip, wear or fade, and it quickly became my go-to for occasions. In the Keep, occasions usually meant dining with foreign mages or a Gathering. "I know I've never seen you wear _this_ one," Owen commented, bringing me back to the present.

"No, you haven't, in fact, I didn't even know I'd brought it with me," I said, looking back to the frothing tub at my fingertips. I was washing stew from the front of a jacket. Last night I'd gone to the Inn with Owen and Kathy, and seen Chase there. He'd flirted with us girls, and Maya had taken some offense. I think she harbored some kind of grudge, because she dumped an order of stew on me "accidentally" soon after.

Owen made thinking noises while he hung the gown up on the wire. "You never answered my question, you know." His back stood straight, and very visible beneath his skin tight shirt. I let myself look at the hard muscles in his back before working at the stain again. Using the advantage of the moment, I tried to magic a bit of the gunk from the thread. It worked better than scrubbing at it would have, and Owen didn't catch me. I'd gotten comfortable with him, enough to chance a thing like my talent.

"You're right, I haven't answered you," I replied blandly as I held the jacket up for inspection. The brown smudge had faded, and I couldn't locate it. Suddenly it was gone from my grip, and Owen had hold of my hands. Slowly I looked up from the wash to meet his solid gaze. When I was tired of the silence, I snapped at him, "What?"

"You haven't answered me." Owen said quietly, unbothered by my tone. "All I asked was what the dress was. Why does that get at you so?" Damn, he'd noticed when I started thinking of the Keep. I'd hoped that wouldn't register.

For a moment I said nothing and stared at him, searching his eyes. There was no malice there, only concern. When I decided to answer, I had to look away from those deep eyes. "It's from a previous life." Tugging gently, I slipped my hands from Owen's, and started to pry the jacket from his grip. His face was distant, and it took little effort to get it from him. While the gears in his head turned, as I knew they would be, I dunked the jacket in the rinse bucket and hung it on the low line that I could reach.

"What do you mean?" Owen's voice was still quiet over my shoulder.

"It was from before. A life I don't lead anymore. A life where formal events happened. There's no reason for that dress anymore," I explained tiredly. I missed the Gatherings. All the flashing gems and jewelry, the exotic colors, and range of people. It was a mixing pot of magefolk. And I wanted my old life back something fierce. No more calluses on my hands from tools, no dirt under my finernails every hour of the day. It was hard to say if it was worth it.

"There's always a reason for pretty things," Owen said as he came up behind me, and took the jacket from my hands. I'd been struggling to get the clips to stay. Curse it all, he managed it with hardly a trouble. I steadied, with him near as he was. Around Owen, I felt surer about myself. He handled my prickly demeanor better than anyone, even my brother. "I could make a reason for it, if you need one."

I turned to look at him then. He wouldn't look me in the eye, and there was something akin to a blush on his face, but it might've only been from the sun. "What sort of reason makes for a dress as nice as this?"

Owen didn't have an answer for me. Instead, he crossed to my dirty clothes, and grabbed a pair of grass-stained jeans. He looked at them, and then plunged it into the bucket, scrubbing furiously. Laughing at him, I grabbed the basket of dried clothes and went inside. It took but a few minutes to fold them and put them away properly. I looked around my dingy house and leaned against the counter of the kitchen. My friend was still outside working at my laundry, his brow furrowed. Smiling, I wondered how I'd gotten so lucky.

Once we finished the wash, Owen left, saying he was going to the Bar and I was welcome to join him once I was finished up. I nodded, and went back inside to clean up. My things, the important ones, had been taken to Mattes' for safe keeping while the renovations were being done. I'd be crashing at the Inn the few days it'd take to finish the house. Dale promised that the furniture in the house would be handled with care, and assured me it was safe to leave there. In the morning he and the boys were going to start their work.

The pack full of clothes and things I kept for myself was already at the door, waiting to go to the Inn in the morning. Since I could afford it, I decided to go to the Bar after all. I changed out of the shorts and tank I'd been wearing and put on a red sleeveless dress that hung about to my knees. It was as nice as a drinking dress needed to be, in my opinion. It flattered my frame, and flared attractively. I threw on a pair of light sandals, as the heat of the summer was already creeping in on the days, and lingered on into some nights. At the door I checked myself in the mirror I'd hung from a hook. My long hair hung tired and plain looking. Scowling, I snatched a clip out and wound my hair up into a bun and secured it. My skin had begun to tan, and the line of my neck, then a bit of my back was that of a seductress. Which is a far cry from myself, but I left it be.

The sun was just sinking under the horizon as I walked out the door. A warm breeze stirred the grass around my ankles, and I quickened my pace. I didn't want to get caught out of doors when the darkness settled.

I needn't have worried. The walk was short, as ever, and I made it into the Inn before the upper edge of the sun had slipped beneath the waves. As I slipped inside, I quickly realized how busy the Inn was for a weeknight. A few tourists were still about at this hour, and quite a few of the townsfolk were about. A few of Ozzie's hired sailor boys were about too, drinking like the very fish they hauled in their nets.

Nearly the only face I _didn't_ see was Owen's. I settled near a wall away from the bar, and wondered what would have kept him. He left before me; he should have been there for sure. Yet I didn't see that red mop of his anywhere. Despite myself, I pouted.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing with such a dour look on her face?" The lilting voice came from my left. I glanced up to see Chase leaning against the check-in counter. He looked very good, in his jeans and his shirt sleeves rolled up. He was tall, not as much as Owen, but taller than I by a good measure.

I wrinkled my nose. "I might have been stood up, I'm not exactly sure at the moment."

Chase play gasped. I laughed, since he looked quite ridiculous. "Well, we can't have that. How's about I get you a drink and sit you down?" he suggested with a wink. I can't say I've ever been courted so playfully and flirtatious. It was so bold, and it was all right in front of everyone. It made me feel a bit naughty, truth be told. So despite myself, I nodded. Chase sauntered off to the bar and returned with a pair of drinks.

The cocktail he handed me was of the blueberry variety. Though I prefer apple cocktails, I was happy to have a sweet drink at all. Some men go for the bitter buckwheat and rice drinks, and those curl my toes in the worst way. The blueberry was sweet and tangy, and very strong.

"So are you single, or am I just chasing my tail over here?" Chase asked when he'd finished his drink. I looked at him sharply, and he returned my look just as piercing. As I stared into his purple eyes, I realized that I couldn't read him. It was strange, and unsettling. I'd have to be on my toes with this one.

"You're no dog, you've no tail to chase." I answered, sipping my drink still. "I'm not spoken for at the moment, you sly thing."

Chase grinned very broadly. "The game is still afoot then." He stood up, and offered a hand to me. "Come on. Let's dance." He pulled me to my feet and I spent the rest of the night in a blur. All I know is that I was too drunk to be acceptable, and that I did not go to my own bed at the end of it.

When I realized I was awake, it was a slow and cautious thing. As if my body was sneaking up on consciousness, as to not startle it. The hangover I expected was looming, just beyond the comfortable slip that was sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I stretched my legs under the covers. Very quickly I realized I was not in my house. The bed was empty beside myself. Sitting up, I looked around. The room was tidy, with a few cookbooks sitting on the nightstand. I could smell something wonderful from the other room.

When I poked my head out the door, I found Chase standing in his kitchen in yesterday's jeans, cooking something. From the smell of it, it was bacon and eggs. My stomach growled, and I padded out into the main room. He was very much concentrated on his work, and didn't notice me even when I stood beside him. Casually, I slid a hand around his stomach and nosed his lean bicep.

"G' morning," I mumbled into his arm. Before stumbling out, I'd thrown on his rumbled button up, the rolled sleeves falling at my wrists. It hung open now, and when Chase turned to look at me, I knew he'd be looking at my underwear clad body, and my bare stomach.

"Good morning sleepyhead. You were quite drunk last night, did you know?" Chase was blunt, something I appreciated. I couldn't tolerate people who danced around the subject. "Once you hit the mattress you passed out. It was rather funny."

"'M glad 'm entertainin'," I said groggily, and ran my fingers along the tendon on the back of his neck. Though his posture did not betray him, the gooseflesh that broke out across his skin did. I chuckled, and moved away so he could work. "Why're makin' breakfast?" I wondered aloud.

He gave me a queer look. "Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged, and settled at the table so I could admire him while he worked. He was all muscle, but lean. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he swam or ran to keep fit. My work kept me in good shape, and I had managed to put on a bit of weight. Thank the Gods, I'd almost expected someone to set up an intervention, the way people watched my frame. I'd filled out a bit, and realized that I was actually a bit curvy, when I fed myself correctly.

Chase set a plate heaped with food in front of me, and took a seat opposite me. Under the table, his bare foot traced patterns up my legs. With my toes I wrestled his feet back, all while quietly eating my meal with a straight face.

Eventually I had to get going, since Dale was coming by at ten to begin the renovations, and my things were still back at the house. I threw my dress on, and returned Chase's shirt. I was about to slip out the door when he caught my wrist and pulled me back. My mouth opened to ask what he was up to when he kissed me. He caught me by surprise, and I can't say I hadn't melted some by the time he released me.

"I hope you'll let me take you out some time," he asked quietly, as we leaned against the wall beside his door. Since I was a tad breathless, I nodded. He smiled, and kissed me again for good measure before ushering me out with a tap to the rump. Waving my hands at him, I departed, and made my way home. Quickly. I did _not_ want to be caught out in yesterday's clothing.

Drunk as I was last night, I knew nothing had happened with Chase and I. As a mage, I'd been taught by older women that lying with another was a certain trouble with us Witches. The whole thing was more complicated than I care to go into, honestly.

I slunk in the front door, and stripped off the dress, snatching up a t shirt and shorts as well as a change of undergarments. Glancing at the clock, I figured I had about five minutes before they'd be to my house. After changing I straightened up the few things I'd forgotten, and shouldered my pack. As I went to open the front door, a knock came. It was Dale, alright, and punctual too. I noted that as something about him.

We took care of the last minute arrangements, and I departed after giving my hovel one last going over. In a way it was sad. I'd gotten used to the openness, and the bare spaces. The next time I saw it would look nothing like itself. In the back of my head, I knew I wasn't ready. But I'd get used to the new house. I always did. A long time ago I learned nothing lasted, that it was best to just enjoy the things for as long as they'd be. Like mortals. They'd pass, just like clouds and flowers. It was best just not to worry about it.

I turned my back and left. Jake welcomed me as soon as I got to the Inn, and showed me to my room. I took a few minutes to lay my clothes out. As I worked, someone knocked on the door. I opened it, a bit perplexed. It was Coleen, with scrap of paper in her hand.

"Chase just left this note for you," she told me before turning to go man the front desk once more. I called out my thanks down the hall, and unfolded the note as I shut the door behind me. A note already? I'd just left his house. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly four. Surprised, I figured I must have lost track of time while unpacked, and zoned out.

The note was simply a request to join him at his place for dinner. He hoped I would come, and unless he heard otherwise, he'd be expecting me around eight. I smirked. Chase had some nerve, just assuming I would show up! But I would. I had no plans, and after Owen's little move, I wasn't inclined to seek out his company.

I pulled open the drawers, and looked over the scant options I had for clothing.


	9. Chapter 9

It was nearing five o'clock, and Coleen was looking forward to closing for the day. Her feet ached, and the tourists kept her very busy. She was looking forward to a slow night. Wednesdays were usually quiet. She was closing the account books and setting them on the shelves behind the desk when the bell at the door rang.

"I'm very sorry," she called over her shoulder, "but we are booked for the next week straight. You're better off to go spend your stay on Toucan Island." Coleen fetched a feather dusted from beside the bookshelf and tidied up. She'd not back down and give him their stand-by room, for emergencies only. She'd done it only once, and caused one hell of a mess when she had.

"Coleen, it's just me." She turned around to face Owen, look sheepish with his hands in his pockets. Brightening, she smiled and asked what he needed, they were still booked solid anyhap. "I was wondering," he responded, "has Meryl been about? I was going to ask if she wanted to get dinner with me." He blushed then, and seemed to shrink into his shoes a bit. "You know, like a date, kind of thing."

Coleen frowned, and looked away. "I'm sorry Owen, she left just a bit ago."

"Where to? I could still catch up, I guess."

"She's having dinner with Chase." Though Coleen wouldn't see it, Owen's face fell. Chase was well known for his dinners, having invited countless tourists to his bachelor pad for a night of wine, fine dining and _leisure_. The entire island knew he was a playboy, when it came to foreigners. He'd never pursued an islander before. That how they'd know it was just a game to him.

"Oh. Alright. Thanks, Coleen. Have a good night," Owen said quietly as he turned and ambled out the door. It slammed shut behind him.


End file.
